Thieves
by YoujiK33
Summary: In the World of Ruin, Edgar muses on his odd reversal of fortune. Shonen-ai warning.


Thieves

This one takes place at some indefinable time between the apocalypse and Celes' arrival in Albrook. Everything else should be self-explanatory. Sorry about the non-ending, it was so hard T-T This has a shonen-ai warning - meaning male-male homosexual relationships. There's nothing really graphic though. Comments and constructive criticism is welcome, but please don't flame me for the subject matter, I won't pay attention to it anyway. On with the fic! 

Thieves

A Final Fantasy VI Fanfic 

With Just a Touch of Shonen-Ai 

He was disoriented when he opened his eyes, as usual. The room was dark and his back ached from the hard mattress, so different from the luxury he was used to. As he climbed stiffly from the bed, rubbing cold hands against his sore neck, he wondered if he was a bit twisted for enjoying the circumstances so much. 

He dressed and eyed himself in the greasy mirror on the side of the room. Abandoning his traditional blue and green for a more menacing black had been a good move; he was proud to note that he really did look like the gang leader he was posing as. 

Still, he wondered as he rubbed at the dark circles under his eyes, how long would it last? 

The carpet was threadbare beneath his boots, the wooden steps bowing slightly in the center, and he seated himself at a table in the inn's restaurant without even acknowledging the greetings several scruffy members of the ragtag gang gave their "boss". 

When had the world gotten so... ugly? Albrook had survived the recent apocalypse... well... not unscathed certainly, but in much better shape than most of the battered planet. Still, even here it seemed as if a thin coat of darkness had been brushed across everything, hanging from the air itself. As he sipped a lukewarm cup of coffee, he almost didn't notice when the door creaked open and a man entered with the watery stream of sickly orange sunlight. 

Even after they had caught sight of each other it took a long moment for realization to set in. Then he gasped, rising to his feet and exclaiming, "Locke! What are you doing here?" 

"I might ask you the same thing," Locke replied almost incredulously as the other man quickly crossed the room and caught him up in a friendly embrace. As they pulled away the man informed Locke in a low voice, "Don't call me Edgar. My name is Gedar and I'm a thief. I'll explain later." 

Locke nodded, holding off his curiosity, unable to keep a grin from spreading across his face. "I'm so relieved to find you alive..." 

"...same here." Edgar gestured to an empty chair. "Join me for breakfast?" 

"Of course. So what are you up to?" 

"Well, I won't give you the details quite yet, but we're looking for a way into Figaro Castle. In fact, I've got to go out for supplies today, if you'd care to join me." In a hushed voice he added, "I'll tell you more tonight." 

They ordered some food, and when the rather interesting-looking plates of eggs arrived Edgar shoveled them down his throat with hardly a second glance. Locke picked up his fork and poked at the mass hesitantly. "Are eggs supposed to bounce like that?" 

"Don't be too critical. They do the best they can." 

"I know, I know. Still... this must be very strange for you." He gave in and scooped some egg onto his fork. At least it tasted a bit better than it looked. 

Edgar felt a smile tugging at his lips. "It *is* awfully strange," he admitted. "My position now is certainly a far cry from the way things were before..." This was, of course, un understatement. The man who had once been the King of Figaro was now drinking cold coffee in a dingy hotel while trying to organize a band of thieves to break into his lost castle... "It's.. really almost refreshing to have a change." 

Locke ate silently for a moment, mulling over these words and noticing the curious looks he was getting from the members of Edgar's - or "Gedar's" - little gang. "Hm. I think I understand your point." 

"Let's hurry up and get work done so we can have a real conversation, all right?" 

Locke, of course, agreed readily. 

If the apocalypse had done any good at all it was for the merchants. Albrook bustled with activity as locals and travelers rushed to get their hands on weapons and armor for defense from the gradually increasing monsters roaming the overworld. It took quite a bit of haggling to get supplies for the several dozen bandits, especially since Edgar really didn't have any desire to actually steal anything. As he explained to Locke, he'd kept his gang from wreaking havoc on the citizens by ordering them to lay low. They had been a far from intelligent bunch anyhow and followed every order he might give. 

Their dicussion throughout the day remained quite vague, as Edgar didn't wish to give away his true identity. They were both dying to find a place for private discussion and so retired to Edgar's room just after dinner. 

"So you're using this gang to get into Figaro, huh?" Locke eased into the sagging loveseat as Edgar used a minor fire spell on the logs in the grate. 

"That's right. Apparently the castle is trapped underground somewhere between Figaro and Kohlingen. I've naturally been trying to get back to find out what's going on, and if my people need help." 

"So what's with the disguise? I will admit you look good in black... But the name 'Gedar'? Very creative alibi, there." He rolled his eyes. 

Edgar flushed slightly, seating himself on the dulled cushions. "Oh, be quiet, it was the best I could come up with off the top of my head. And I'm disguising myself because the men I've taken in under my command hate the King of Figaro with a passion for locking them up in the first place." 

Locke stared incredulously, eyebrows raising toward the dark bandanna capturing his hair above his eyes. "I didn't know anyone could *be* that stupid." 

"They think we're going to loot the place!" Both men dissolved into a fit of laughter. It felt good, Edgar noticed, to laugh again for the first time in months. "So, Locke, what have you been up to?" 

"Actually... I'm on something of a treasure hunt." His face grew suddenly grim, and he straightened, dark eyes serious. "Edgar... have you heard the stories about Emperor Gestahl's secret artifact? The one that supposedly has the power to restore life...?" 

He caught on immediately, leaning forward to clamp a hand on Locke's thigh in a vice-like grip. "No... no way. You aren't seriously going to try..." 

"I'm afraid I am. I have to." 

"Locke... you know you're not to blame for what happened. You don't have to keep doing this to yourself! You're just going to get your hopes dashed again. Give it up before you get hurt." Edgar's eyes flashed with intensity and the touch of his hand burned, but Locke didn't flinch. 

"I can't just give up on Rachel, not if there's any chance whatsoever. Edgar... I loved her. I always will, and if there's any hope at all that this artifact will bring her back, I need to find it. What would you do if something happened to Sabin?" 

The look in Edgar's eyes made him immediately regret his words. It was a look of loneliness, desolation... loss. 

"That was a cheap shot, you know," Edgar murmured hoarsely, gaze lowering to the floor as he removed his hand. 

"Ah... I'm sorry..." Locke began awkwardly. Then his voice softened. "You... haven't heard from him yet?" 

"No. You?" 

A solemn shake of the head, a forced smile. "Hey, I'm sure he's all right. That brother of yours is stronger than any of the rest of us. He's probably off training right now, trying to build up his strength to beat Kefka." 

"You're right, of course." Edgar allowed himself to take a small amount of comfort in Locke's words. His only comfort. "Maybe I worry about him more than is really necessary." 

Locke shrugged. "I think it's natural to worry about anyone you care about. It's quite a relief to find you alive and well, let me tell you." 

"The feeling's mutual," Edgar sighed, slipping his arms around Locke's waist and leaning against him. "The feeling is definitely mutual." 

"You're still interested in this?" Locke asked laughingly, slipping his hands under Edgar's cloak to run them down his back, eliciting a pleased shudder. "Seems like you would've gotten a woman by now." 

"Hmm, well, there was one, in Miranda." Locke quirked an eyebrow. "Er, but she was a prostitute." 

"What??" Locke sat up, staring at him incredulously. "I wouldn't have thought you'd be the type. You're a KING." 

"Not at the moment, I'm not," Edgar pouted. "That might explain why I did it. Basking in my freedom, I suppose." 

"Ah... how was it?" 

The question was met with a slight flush. "It made me feel... dirty. Like I was doing something completely disgraceful." He chuckled to himself. "I kind of liked it." He glanced up at Locke, who was studying him questioningly, silently urging him to explain. "I guess... it's sort of my own little rebellion against my fate. Basking in freedom while I have it." 

"I can understand that, I think." Locke pulled Edgar into his arms again, kissing his forehead. "Most men would do anything for the position you long to give up." 

"It's true, then, that we always want what we can't have." He leaned forward to trace his tongue lightly over Locke's lower lip. "Still, being incognito is awfully lonely work." 

Locke nodded in understanding, pressing his mouth to Edgar's, parting his lips slightly to admit the gently probing tongue. Then he began chuckling around the kiss, and Edgar pulled back questioningly. 

He smiled at the confusion in those blue eyes, so close he could see himself mirrored in them. "You do realize we only do this because we're a couple of horny bastards." 

"Quite... although I prefer the term 'friends with benefits'." 

"Hmph," Locke snorted, moving to unclasp Edgar's cloak and rather unceremoniously dump it to the floor. "You're such a lech." 

"Don't I know it," Edgar grinned, reaching up to snatch the bandana from Locke's head. 

"H... hey!" he spluttered as liberated strands of brown-grey hair spilled into his eyes. "You know I wear that for a reason!" 

"Oh, but you look so *cute* when you're disheveled." Edgar's hands trailed through his hair, settling on the base of his neck and stroking lightly. He knew the touch would cause Locke to melt. 

"Ahhh..." His head lolled foreward onto Edgar's shoulder, jaw going slack. "You bastard." 

"I do hope you'll be joining me in bed, my dear thief." 

"That's treasure hunter," he protested without much conviction. 

It had been too long, much too long since the last time they'd fallen into bed together, strewing clothing about the room as they explored and re-explored each other. Too long since their limbs had entwined lazily, hands and mouths wandering. 

Too long, Edgar couldn't help musing as their lovemaking became more and more urgent, since he'd been able to give himself up so completely. 

As the frenzy of climax subsided and an exhausted Locke slipped into a well-deserved slumber at his side, the young king wondered why he enjoyed being possessed, loved Locke for possessing him. 

Loved him. He'd almost whispered that declaration as the heat subsided, but had thought better of it. He didn't want Locke to misunderstand. He did love the other man, much as he loved his brother; loved Locke for seeing his faults, the fear and confusion that occasionally gripped him as it would any other man, for understanding his weaknesses while continuing to admire his strengths. 

Locke was one of the only people who would tease him, criticize him to his face. One of the few who didn't care about his title. One of the few who treated him like... a human being. Edgar sighed. He hated being king. 

But maybe tonight, for a little while, they could simply be two thieves in the night. Maybe he could pretend that this was how things between them would always be, and that this time and ever time thereafter when he wrapped his arms around Locke's chest and drifted off against his shoulder the other man was sure to be there in the morning. 

The logical part of Edgar's mind told him otherwise, but as he basked in the warmth of the man who had stolen a place in his heart, he didn't really care. There was a little bit of beauty in this dark world, and he wasn't going to give it up. 

The End 


End file.
